"You got a postcard from the University of Richmond Law School yesterday," my older son told us during his weekly phone call from California. "Why didn't you tell me?"
I answered before the implications of his question had sunk in.
"Why should we?" I said. "Is there a chance in hell you're going to Richmond?"
Both my boys, whom you might think of as toddlers, since I sometimes do, are graduating from college this spring (the younger one, champing at the bit to get at Life, graduating a year early). Both are heading off to law school in the fall, God help them and us all.
"And you got a letter addressed to 'The Steinberg Family' from 'Edie,'" he continued. "What's that?"
"It was from Cousin Evie," my wife, also on the line, corrected him.
I asked to know what is going on, and he explained the United States Postal Service has a new feature, Informed Delivery, where you can receive email images of mail you are slated to receive today, or have received for the past week.
"My name is still associated with your address, so I was able to sign up," he said.
"This is really creepy," my wife said.
"It is!" Ross enthused, happily. Suddenly I remember that this was the boy who put a chemical in my glass of milk, causing it to solidify. Who once took a screen shot of my iMac screen, and then contrived for that photo to be displayed on the computer, so nothing I clicked on worked, and it was only when I was at the point of grabbing the computer and hurling it out the window did he laugh and reveal the joke.
Of course I raced to sign up. The terms of service are extensive, as is typical, and include a little speech about privacy:
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